The Fruit of Love

Two years ago I didn't send my mom a Mother's Day card.  In fact, I called her on that day just to tell her that while of course I was totally thankful for her, I thought Mother's Day was a stupid holiday meant to swindle consumer's money on sappy cards and, on principle, I was not going to participate.  My husband, who saw humor in this, actually told this to the congregation on Mother's Day.  The collective gasp was rather traumatic.  You would have thought he had just said I burned flags on the 4th of July to a group of veterans.  But even after I learned that Mother's Day actually is not a Hallmark holiday but has a rather thoughtful beginning, I stuck to my guns.  It's not a religious holiday ("holy day" right?), and so long as I love and honor my mom, do I really need a special day for it?  

That was before I had a baby.

Five days after delivering my daughter, going without sleep, trying to get the baby to nurse, and at times helplessly holding her as she cried inconsolably, I had a newfound appreciation for my mother.  And I remember at one point turning to my husband, pointing to his mom, and saying, "You had better appreciate this woman.  She poured a significant chunk of her life into you."  

And now, though this experience of motherhood, God has opened my eyes such that I look at people - all people - in a whole new way.  Each and every person I pass represents tremendous amounts of time, energy, and sacrifice - the life of parents, siblings, and friends poured into this individual that he or she might live.  Every person I see was born helpless and would have perished long ago without the sustained self-sacrificing love of another.  To see a person is to look upon the fruit of love.  

Every person I see represents a mom who dreamed that one day, when this person was all grown up, he or she would be healthy in the fullest sense of the word and living a good, fulfilling life.  How much work goes into each of us.  

And myself, too.  When I feel under-appreciated or uncared for, I remember this lesson from being a mother.  I would not have survived to this moment had I not been loved.  I and humanity surrounding me, our existence is the fruit of a tremendous amount of love and sacrifice.  Such is the wisdom of the crucified Creator.